"Ms. Lloyd, we''re in trouble. The private dining room is empty, and the staff said the party left two hours ago."


    "Who organized this meet-up?" Sylvia asked in a panic.


    "It was... Mrs. Simpson, Bridget Simpson''s mother. She said it was to introduce a big client as a way of making amends to you."


    "Making amends to me without me there? How does that even make sense!" Sylvia barely registered the throbbing pain in her foot, standing up immediately. "Go find the manager now. Ask them to secure the CCTV footage. And do we still have a good connection with the chauffeur from the Garcia family?"


    "Yes, we do."


    "Please have him drive me over."


    "No problem, Ms. Lloyd."


    After hanging up, Sylvia wrapped herself in her coat, limping quickly out to the manor''s driveway.


    The chauffeur was already waiting. As soon as she got into the car, they sped off towards the restaurant.


    Orson, who was just leaving the Garcia Manor, saw Sylvia''s figure getting into the car and quickly called Rupert.


    Rupert was in the middle of changing, his shirt unbuttoned as he answered the call.


    "What''s up?"


    "Ms. Lloyd just rushed off in a car."


    "I''m on my way."


    ...


    At the restaurant.


    With Henry''s help, Sylvia approached the manager. The manager nced at her briefly before adopting a tone filled with insincere apologies.


    "Ms. Lloyd, I''m sorry, but our restaurant policy prohibits us from sharing surveince footage. I must ask you to leave."


    Sylvia knew what he was implying. She was too insignificant for him to bother with.


    She scoffed. "Fine. I''ll leave. But the moment I step out that door, I''ll call the police and notify the Garcia family. You better pray there''s nothing off in the footage. Otherwise, your days as a manager are numbered." The manager''s lips tightened as he clenched his hands in front of him.


    Sylvia, however, turned to leave.


    "Wait," the manager called out, "Follow me."


    Inside the surveince room, the manager reluctantly pointed at a small, dark square on the screen.


    "Ms. Lloyd, it''s not that I don''t want to show you, but the camera outside that particr room is broken. We haven''t had a chance to fix it yet."


    Despite his words, Sylvia could see arrogance and indifference reflected in his eyes. Clearly, he knew about the malfunctioning camera all along but chose not to exin earlier, seemingly stalling for time.


    After a moment''s thought, Sylvia leaned in to move the mouse. "No worries, I''ll just check the entrance and exit footage."


    The manager immediately grabbed the mouse, exining, "Ms. Lloyd, I understand you''re anxious to find someone, but our guests are very private individuals. Our restaurant has promised not to disclose theirings and goings. You''re putting me in a difficult position. The staff mentioned Edwin and Naomi have already left. Perhaps they went somewhere else for entertainment. They''re sure to return by morning."


    With that, he shoved the mouse into his pocket.


    Knowing she couldn''t win this tug-of-war, Sylvia pressed down her anger and asked politely, "Just onest question then." "Go ahead."


    "When did Mrs. Simpson leave?"


    "Around nine."


    "Are you sure?" Sylvia fixed him with a steady gaze.


    He corrected himself, "My mistake, it was after ten."


    "Certain?"


    "Absolutely," the manager nodded.


    Sylvia didn''t press further and left the surveince room with Henry.


    Henry, worried, asked, "If they dispersed after ten, where could Edwin and Naomi have gone?"


    Sylvia looked up at a sign with determination. "They''re still in the restaurant!"


    The manager''s reluctance to show


    the entrance and exit footage was a clear sign. He feared she would discover that Naomi and Edwin


    Bel


    hadn''t left at all. His constant


    stalling and assurances that they''d


    return by morning only confirmed


    that he knew exactly whe


    were.


    They had to be in the restaurant!


    they